The Fire Within
by truthsetfree
Summary: Lucissa. A note on 4- Cissy thought she had some hideous illness  such as Dragon Pox, but less poxy. Disclaimer: Anything you recognize does not belong to me.


Title: The Fire Within (subject to change)

Rated: G

Pairing: Narcissa/Lucius

Feedback: is always appreciated

Disclaimer: I do not own JK Rowling's stuff

1.

"Dance with me."

It came out as a command. Silkily spoken with assurance.

But she knew it for what it was because she knew him for what he was.

Slowly, gracefully, she raised one arm, to offer a stiff hand, which he kissed before taking.

His lips were warm on her icy fingers, and for a moment, she wondered if he'd managed to burn her with that kiss.

But nothing marred the snowy white of her hand on his shoulder.

2.

Her wedding gown was pearly velvet, embroidered with silver snowflakes.

Her lids frosted with silver, and her nails painted to match.

Diamonds glittered coldly in the tiara she wore, and she was conscious of its weight as they glided together.

3.

His eyes flicker and dance, dangerously, as he slides his black hood down.

The fabric shines like burnt bark as the potion bubbles.

"When shall I expect you back?"

Her quiet voice seems almost serene as she stirs, three strokes clockwise, three counterclockwise.

But the last word lasted a bit longer than it should have. And though her expression reveals nothing, she still hasn't looked up from the foul smelling slime in the cauldron.

"I was not told."

He reaches out to run a hand through soft silvery blond and pauses to touch a marble cheek.

Finally, she looks up.

"I will return as swiftly as the wind will carry me," he promises in a low smoky whisper.

4.

For three months they didn't know.

After waiting for so long, for a better world, a perfect world…

And then when that vision was crushed, trying so hard for so long, hoping it wasn't too late and…nothing.

After that, how could they have expected?

She'd tried to keep the vomiting a secret, not wanting him to worry.

Vomiting was the first sign, the papers said. Then you lose all sense of taste. Then smell. Then hearing. Then sight. Then, body spindly and weak, you die in the dark silence.

At first it wasn't hard to hide it- he always left so early.

But then one morning, he'd forgotten some scroll he'd fallen asleep reading the previous night, and he'd come back.

The door had swung open, suddenly, startling her into another heave, and he had stood, horrified at the sight before him.

Without another word, he'd knelt, rubbing her back in warm circles and taking the ribbon from his own hair to tie hers back.

When she had finished, he'd carried her to the bed and gently laid her down as if she were made of spun glass. She must of dozed a bit, but she heard bits and pieces as he Floo'd St. Mungo's and demanded that someone be sent over _immediately._

A thoroughly frightened wizard approached her warily, and after a wave of his wand, his face lit up. Not only was she not going to die, she was pregnant. Did they want to know if it was to be a witch or a wizard?

5.

The labor was long, and Lucius spent many of those hours pacing anxiously. Towards the end, he couldn't bear it- not a sound had come through those thick walls. The intern had emerged just as he'd set the poor clerk dangling in the air, his wand at her throat, because she would not tell him what was going on in there.

She'd been so shaken when he hadn't cried. Babies were supposed to cry when they were born. Their tiny lungs were supposed to fill with air, and they were supposed to scream. But he hadn't. He was too weak to cry, they said. He would need special care, but she could hold him now if she wanted. Would he live?

As the too-pale, too-light baby slept in her arms, she could only imagine one answer, and though they hesitated, she knew before they spoke.

Yes.

That's when he'd come bursting through the door, triumph on his face, and she'd greeted him with a smile. The mediwitches had melted into the walls as he approached.

"It's a wizard," she whispered.

"A wizard," he whispered in wonder, as she handed him the bundle.

6.

She named him for his father, in a way. Named him for the fire within. Draco. It was a strong name. He would need to be strong in this still imperfect world.

It had taken months, but he was stronger. Lucius tapped his wand and watched as his son's eyes gleamed and a tiny hand grasped for the Green Welsh that slithered, just out of reach.


End file.
